All I had to do was get away. I’d figure out what to do next after that. I had their numbers. But Uncle Bradley was far away from them. Far away from Braxton Harbor. I had time. I could warn them.
Leaves crunched under my feet as I raced beneath and around the trees. Just a few more yards to freedom. The fence was absolutely not an obstacle, even with its black metal jutting spikes at the top to discourage people from climbing over.
When I was much younger, I could slip between the bars. Now, I’d just fly over them. My heart thundered in my ears as a raised voice behind me bellowed. I ignored it. Uncle Bradley. His security. It didn’t matter who it was.
They couldn’t help me.
I had to get away.
Finally, the fence was right there and I leapt as soon as I was on top of it. A grip on the bars and my momentum would push me up and then I’d twist over. Only instead of that, there was a loud pop and shocking burn that ran up both my arms before I flew backwards and hit the ground.
All the air whooshed out of me. Pain from the impact. Pain in my hands. Pain all through my system as I jerked and twitched.
Then a strange man filled my vision. “Silly girl, the fence is electrified." There wasn't an ounce of pity in his voice as he dragged me upward. I offered almost no resistance, I couldn’t even get my brain to cooperate, much less my fingers. He threw me over his shoulder and marched back toward the house.
Everything hurt, everything swayed and when we got there, he set me down and I faced my uncle. His face was contorted in fury, an anger he made no attempt to contain. He was yelling at me, but I barely heard anything as I swayed. Fuck, I just hurt.
“Well?” he demanded. “Say something.”
I opened my mouth and promptly vomited all over him. His cursing was the last thing I heard before I passed out.
CHAPTER 9
EMERSYN
The next couple of days passed in a blur. When I woke up, I was in my old room and the door had been locked. There were even bars on my window. How—quaint. At least I was still dressed and there was no familiar pain anywhere else. Or there wasn’t, until I tried to push myself up.
My hands hurt like hell. When I stared at my palms, I couldn’t believe the red stripes across them. He’d electrified the fence. Since when? Granted, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d climbed it, but I had when I was little.
Every muscle in my body protested as I dragged myself out of bed. I wanted a shower and to brush my teeth. I had a vague memory that they brought me food at some point, but I’d refused it. I didn’t even want the drinks they brought. Twice, I’d dragged myself out of the bed to get water in the bathroom. Sleep and pain held me captive. Or was it drugs? The confusion was real.
Scanning the room, I found no phone or television. For the first time in years, I really looked at the pink lace bedecked curtains and the fuzzy rug, even the overstuffed fuzzy chair done in a softer shade of pink. There were stuffed animals all along the window seat. All as neat and as prim as they’d been the day they’d been delivered.
None of them were as loved or as worn as the scarred teddy bear with its stitched arms and flattened fur. I walked to the window and stared out through the bars. My room faced the south side of the property, away from the road, away from anything. The woods stood out there, taunting me. The black—electrified—fence mocked me. If I planned to climb it again, I’d need something rubber to grip it with.
Or maybe I could go up a tree and over. There were some pretty close. The fall might hurt, but I could survive it. My skin itched and crawled. I needed to check my tattoo as well. I hadn’t been taking good care of it. Vaughn—
I slammed the door on his name and closed my eyes. Don’t think about them. Don’t let them in. Not right now. Not when I’d already gambled and lost the first round. My fingers hurt as I began to flex my hands. Burned or not, I needed the muscles to work. There were hints of blisters along the edge of them. One had broken open and wept.
Great.
They needed to be washed. So did my abdomen. The last thing I needed was an infection. That meant I also needed a change of clothes. Unsurprisingly, my duffel was nowhere to be seen. I had a feeling I’d never see it again. It was my room and when I pulled open a drawer on the dresser, I wasn’t surprised to find it filled with clothes.
Lacy panties.
I slammed that drawer shut.
Just not wearing anything he bought for me there. I searched as carefully as I could with my hands protesting, until I found an old t-shirt all the way in the back of the closet and a pair of leggings I’d probably forgotten. There was a rip in the knee. I was kind of surprised they’d survived back here. But there was also a cami that I could wear under the t-shirt. It wouldn’t be a bra, but it would help.
Layers were good.
I dragged a chair from the dressing table into the bathroom with me. Once there, I locked the door—look at that, it still worked. Then I wedged the chair under the door handle. It wouldn’t keep them out if they really wanted in. Jasper could probably kick the door in without—
The hurt in my chest expanded like a balloon and threatened to pop. I didn’t have much time. If they were watching me, they’d know I’d gone into the bathroom. I scanned the room around me. Fuck it.
Let them look.
I stripped out of my clothes and winced more than once at the pull of skin across my abdomen and from the fresh bruises on my back. The fall had been bad, but it was the landing that really sucked. My clothes stank of sweat. A fact I was oddly grateful for. As filthy as I was, no one had stripped me. I got the water going before I checked my abdomen in the mirror. It had gotten a lot scabbier during my sleep. Fuck. I needed to keep it cleaner than I had. The wrap over the tattoo seemed attached.
When trying to peel it off slowly didn’t work, I waited to climb into the shower. The water stung like a bitch on my hands but I needed to clean the tattoo. I got the plastic wrap off with some of the scab. Grimacing, I went for the soap and washed my hands carefully before cleaning the tattoo. Some of the scab flaked away but not all of it.
Wash, don’t scrub.
Then rinse carefully. As soon as I got that done, I hurried through the rest of it. I didn’t care how much my bruises or hands complained. Washing my hair helped, so did the rest. After, I brushed my teeth while wrapped in a towel and dripping. Then I sat down on the top of the toilet to catch my breath.
The sound of a door closing told me someone was either out there or had just been out there. I blotted myself dry, but didn’t waste time on it before I pulled clothes on. I didn’t have any moisturizer here, I didn't think, but I waited to search for it after I had clothes on. Nothing in the bathroom proved useful. Some hair products. A bag of expired cosmetics that I just dropped into the trash. More toilet paper, extras for general toiletries and that was it. There wasn’t even a hair dryer in here. I guessed they didn’t want to leave me with any weapons.
Hair still dripping, I pulled a comb through it and then left it. Standing near the door, I strained to hear anything. No sounds of movement didn’t mean my room was empty. My uncle’s new security team had been quite liberal in their entering and exiting my room.
So far, I hadn’t seen him since I threw up all over him before I passed out. In a way, it was almost funny.